


Sticks and Stones

by kesomon



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alien Biology, Episode Tag, Episode: s11e01 The Woman Who Fell to Earth, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Injury, Near-Death Experience, Regeneration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 22:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16251377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesomon/pseuds/kesomon
Summary: She watches her new friends mourn and thinks,If it worked forDavros...Spoilers for S11E01: The Woman Who Fell to Earth.





	Sticks and Stones

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory fix-it fic for **SPOILER ALERT** Grace's death in The Woman who Fell to Earth. Because I can understand and accept character motivation, story parallels, and the writer's reasons for doing things, but sometimes, you just gotta middle-finger the canon and make it less painful.
> 
> Unbeta'd and crossposted to [Teaspoon and an Open Mind.](https://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=62424)

“You had no right to do that!” the Doctor snapped at Karl the Crane Operator, as the kid shrank from her sudden ire in bewildered terror. But anything further was halted, as the tower gave a sharp shudder underneath them, and her double-pulse skipped a beat.

“Tim Shaw’s little pet-! Of course, the tower structure must’ve been compromised,” she muttered, and looked back at Karl’s terrified face. “Get on, move it! Down the ladder! _Don’t_ get any ideas; I’ll be havin’ _words_ with you later.”

“Yes mum!” Thoroughly cowed, Karl started hastily scrambling back towards the crane cab. The Doctor made to follow, reaching the cab and beginning her descent down the narrow, exhilaratingly tall ladder.

A crackle of energy and a distant battle cry stopped her short.

She looked over the ledge, down, down, - _oh this was_ definitely _too high -_ to see the writhing, gestalt creature latched onto the rungs of the tower - the other tower, the one Ryan and Yaz had climbed, where they were trapped halfway down the ladder now. Another figure was climbing towards it: brave Grace, determined Grace - and hadn’t the Doctor told them to _leave off -_

The figure of Grace thrust something deep into the coils of the gathering swarm and shouted, faint but clear, “Now, Graham!”

There was a burst of energy. A high-pitched, roiling shriek on the level of dog whistles, making new ears ache with the ringing. The coils fell apart, connection broken by the high charge.

Something else fell, too.

The Doctor swung herself into position and braced her feet, sliding in a carefully controlled plummet down the ladder’s railings. Metal and chipped paint bit into the skin of her palms, but she paid it no mind. The last 200 feet, she jumped, new knees taking the shock of the landing with barely a twinge, and ran.

Graham knelt by his wife’s body, hand trembling to wipe mud and rain from her temple, as he murmured tearfully, “Grace? Grace love, come on, stay with us.”

“Come on Nan, stay awake,” Ryan pled, as Yaz paced nearby, phone to her ear.

“Yes, hello, I need an ambulance to Skylark Building Services, east site near-”

The Doctor approached the group, barely comprehending the scene. To go from victory, or near enough, but the price - the price was too high. These people, good people, whom she called friends, and one of them hurt; hers was a brand new body, but already there was blood on her hands -

An arm round Ryan’s shoulders, Graham lifted his head and met her eyes.

The Doctor inhaled, tasting dirt and oil and ozone and the timelines, and the skin of her palms itched, the last remnants of her regenerative energy repairing them anew.

In her last life she had given it so freely, the excess bubbling so near the surface it was easy to burn, a hundred years, a thousand, a _billion_.

In this life, she could give it at least once more.

“Let me in,” she said, striding forward to fall to her knees and held up a hand, golden light dancing under her skin. “I think I can - maybe - I don’t have a lot left, 15 hours on, it’s a risk and I’ve never tried it with a full human before, only River, but if it worked with _Davros_ -”

“You can save her?” Ryan interrupted, hope in the tremor of his voice as he held Grace’s hand.

She met his gaze. “I can try.”

Ryan nodded, and pulled back; Graham too, clutching Ryan’s shoulders, stability for both of them. Yaz as well, distracted from her phone call to watch with wide eyes, knowing something was happening but not what.

The Doctor leaned over Grace, whose eyes were just barely open, the brave, fierce woman still stubbornly with them.

“I’m sorry, Grace. I got you into this,” the Doctor murmured. The corner of the woman’s mouth turned up, just barely.

“Not...your fault….love,” she breathed, barely a sigh. “Told...Graham...bit of...adventure…’s good for the...”

“Shh. Have you better in a mo’, ” the Doctor soothed, brushing palms against Grace’s cheeks. “Just rest. Trust me; I’m a Doctor.”

Grace gave a pained, quiet huff of laughter, eyes fluttering shut. Beside her, Graham gave a quiet whimper of fear.

With a deep breath, the Doctor closed her eyes, and sought that pool of golden energy deep within herself, the reserve for this lifetime almost depleted. This would not be a trick she could do twice, this time round.

She leaned in, pressed her lips to Grace’s forehead, and exhaled.

Golden light rippled over Grace’s skin. Where it found broken bones, it knit; where it found damage, it healed.

It wouldn’t be enough for a full recovery; the wellspring ran dry far too soon. But it would be enough to keep Grace with them.

Grace’s eyes fluttered, and opened, to Graham’s tearful cry and Ryan’s sob of joy.

“Grace!”

“Nan!”

“That was...incredible,” Yaz murmured, amazed, and concerned as the Doctor sat back on her heels, teetering slightly with the dizzy headrush of transference. “You alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” the Doctor promised, and then swayed, finding a stable point in Yaz who caught her shoulders before she could topple. “Whoof. Maybe. Used up the rest of this regeneration’s excess in one go, makes me a bit giddy. Just a bit tired, now,” she trailed off in a murmur. “Could do with another nap.”

Exhaustion could set in quick, post-regeneration. She slumped where she sat, examining the skin of her palms; a few cuts and scrapes still lingered. They’d have to heal up the old fashioned way.

Watching Graham and Ryan fuss over Grace, still weak but no longer on Death’s door, the Doctor smiled.

That was worth a few nicks.


End file.
